


A Black Jacket in the Snow

by HearMyWords



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Coping with the death of a loved one, Crying, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Instability, GASP!, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Papyrus actually gives a shit, Regrets, This probably is gonna be more painful for me to write than for you to read, Unspoken admissions of affection, emotional breakdown, seeking revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 19:20:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8114380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HearMyWords/pseuds/HearMyWords
Summary: Sans has been out of the house for hours! Papyrus (fed up with waiting) decides to go looking for his lazy good for nothing brother. Only... he doesn't quite find what he had set out after.





	1. Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oFxqLYis1m4&feature=youtu.be
> 
> I apologize for any typos, but this has been in my head for AWHILE. Like, seriously. It's insane. Anyway, I altered it a bit to better interpret my version of the already bombass story. (Sorry if that bums you out) Nonetheless! I hope you enjoy!

Papyrus sat in his and Sans' living room, on the couch. He'd already cleaned the kitchen, vacuumed, polished his armor, cleaned the kitchen _again-- **twice**_ , and Sans has _still_ has yet to arrive home!

 

"Where is he!?" Papyrus barked aloud to himself, tone bitter and laced with annoyance. Sans had been gone hours after their rounds were already finished at both his _and_ Papyrus' stations. There was simply no excuse! Papyrus had actually been _gracious_ enough to let him lollygag for as long as he has after Sans asked to be excused with the consideration that _maybe_ he'd actually deserved a little time to himself--but _no_. Instead Sans has undoubtedly taken advantage of one of his brother's _rare_ moments of utter kindness to laze about most likely at  _Grillby's_ of all places.

 

Papyrus cursed himself at the thought of his brother drunkenly stumbling within the confines of that purple  _jackass'_ bar--making an even **bigger** fool of himself and tainting more and more of Papyrus' hard earned reputation with each passing second. The thought _alone_ was enough to make him squeeze his gloved phalanges into his already impatiently crossed arms.

 

 _That's it._ Papyrus thought. He's going to head out, he's  _going_ to find Sans and he's _going_ to ring his _fuckin' **neck**_ for disrespecting his courtesy like the ungrateful dickhead he was.

 

Quickly Papyrus stood, flipped his scarf over his shoulder and swiftly checked every window in every room and the back door to make sure everything was securely locked and boarded up before heading out. It didn't matter that the whole town knew his name, that they shuddered in fear by his very _presence_ , he knew better than to expect nobody would attempt an attack on him and Sans _or_ their home. Even the slightest mistakes could get either of them dusted. _That_ simple, _that_ easily. Because in Underfell there was no such thing as _"too careful"_ and Papyrus learned that a long, long time ago.

 

Vigilantly Papyrus stalked through the disgusting littered streets of Snowdin, heading straight for his destination. Grillby's. When he finally stepped infront of the small storefront he was met with the same poor looking exterior that he'd seen far _too many_ times prior. With a small growl gurgling within him Papyrus sauntered into the bar, mindful to keep a cool but menacing demeanor.

 

Upon entering Papyrus couldn't help but narrow his eye sockets at the drunk townsfolk who fumbled and blubbered amongst eachother around him. It was truly disgusting to witness. But, before he'd teach the _filth_ that King Asgore referred to as his "loyal subjects" a lesson on proper public behavior he reminded himself that he was here for a **reason**. To find his brother. Though, Papyrus had to admit, even with _his_ supreme skills of observation he couldn't seem to locate his brother anywhere within the confines of the poor excuse of an establishment.

 

With a sense of **DETERMINATION** Papyrus marched his way through the crowd of drunken idiots and gambling morons to the front of the bar. Still, no Sans to be seen. _Dammit_. Papyrus' frown deepened. Grillby glanced up from a cup he was busy polishing to study the skeleton's frame up and down questionably. "What do you want?" He asked, his tone more accusing than curious.

 

"Where's Sans?" Papyrus demanded, crossing his arms and glaring into the dark shades the flame monster wore. Papyrus found them to be useless. They were _indoors_ there was no point, why obscure your vision when someone could easily spot your obvious weakness and take advantage of it to strike an attack? He decided it best not to mention his thought on the matter though, knowing full well of Grillby's distaste for him and that pissing him off may make him lie about Sans' whereabouts out of spite. "Sans?" Grillby repeated. Papyrus had to physically stop himself from rolling his eyelights into the back of his skull. _Stars. Is EVERYONE in this damned town so dense?!_ He had to wonder. Honestly.

 

"Yes _Sans_. Who else?!" He snapped in irritation, tapping the high pointed heel of his boot in annoyance. Grillby cocked his head to the side momentarily before speaking up. "If it's his tab, you've already paid it off--"

 

"No! I want to know where _he is_. I'm fully aware of the state of his tab. Believe me." The skeleton couldn't help but interrupt. He's been waiting _hours_. He just wanted to get to the point already, he's wasted enough time as it was. Grillby's flamed brows furrowed before he went back to his usual neutral expression. "I don't know." He admitted.

 

"You don't know!?"

 

_"I don't know."_

 

Papyrus felt like he was about to summon a _dozen_ bone constructs right there and rain **hell** down inside the small building but, luckily, he had better self control then to allow himself to do that. Instead Papyrus composed himself, leveling his magic sharply and narrowly glaring into the bartender, warning him not to test his already _thin_ patience. "What do you mean you 'don't know'?" He asked, barely able to keep himself from bitterly mimicking the purple _fuck's_ tone of voice.

 

"He didn't tell me." Grillby explained, visibly starting to grow annoyed with the length their conversation was beginning to take, keeping him from tending to _actual customers_.

 

Papyrus nodded, crossing his arms. "But you did see him? Yes?" Grillby hummed, looking back down at the cup he still needed to finish polishing. "Yes."

 

The skeleton furrowed his brow bones in thought. _If he isn't here then where is he?_

 

"Listen," Grillby started. Papyrus glanced up. "if I see him i'll tell you. I don't know what kind of trouble he's in now, or what you plan on doing with him--but I have customers to get to and you're taking up _all my time_. He left an hour ago." Papyrus nodded and mumbled a quick _"Thank you."_ that he secretly hoped nobody had _actually_ heard before leaving.

 

Exiting the building Papyrus paused outside. He had no idea where to search next. Sans doesn't **do** anything _(lazy bastard)_ he had nowhere else to be! Deciding that the only possible answer was that Sans was back at their house and had just somehow managed to get lost for several hours in some sort of drunken state after leaving Grillby's Papyrus made his way down their route back home.

 

Keeping a wary eye on his surroundings as he walked down the familiar path Papyrus only paused when he noticed something peculiar, something that _stood out_ to him. His sockets narrowed. _It couldn't be..._ He thought.  _Impossible. There's no way._

 

Carefully he stepped closer. The _thing_ that caught his attention becoming more and more legible as he grew near until it was unmistakable and Papyrus felt his magic  **instantly** turn _cold_.

 

It was _his._

 

It was Sans'  _ **jacket**_.


	2. An Understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 300+ hits in ONE day?? That freaked me out... for real. But thank you! I appreciate the support! (Like, really. Thank you.)

Papyrus slowly, _cautiously_ , walked towards the discarded garment before kneeling down infront of it.

 

 

  
He picked up his brother's jacket in his hand, glancing up to look for anything-- _anything_ that could explain why it was left abandoned out in the middle of the snow. Sans would _never_ take it off; sometimes not even when he went to bed! Papyrus knew that, because it often annoyed him. But that was simply because it was his brother's most _prized_ possession, a gift. A gift Papyrus gave to him when they were both young. _"To keep you warm."_ He remembered vaguely.

 

 

  
Upon further inspection of his surroundings Papyrus saw no evidence of a struggle, nothing to indicate any sort of altercation or fight had occurred. Slowly, he looked back down at the jacket he gripped firmly in his gloved hand. And for a moment, a _foolish_ moment Papyrus had really thought that Sans simply left it behind on accident. That is... Until he saw the familiar white powdery reminisce of dust coating small portions of the fabric in a thin veil.

 

 

  
The skeleton swore he could feel his nonexistent breath catch in he nonexistent _throat._

 

 

  
_No._

 

 

  
_No._

 

 

  
_No._

 

 

  
**_No._ **

 

 

  
Papyrus wanted to **scream,** wanted to find the fucker who did this--wanted their dust to fucking _cake_ all of Snowdin but above all else... He wanted his brother. He wanted _Sans._ Papyrus' brow bones furrowed. He wanted him, he really did. _Stars,_ he felt so stupid, he wanted so badly for Sans to--

 

 

  
"Come home."

 

 

  
Papyrus' eye sockets widened as the words left his teeth without his knowledge. A unfamiliar pang pulled at him from within his ribcage. _Come home, dammit._ Standing up Papyrus spun around on the heel of his boot, turning in the direction of their house and marching forward. He found himself lifting and sliding his arms into the jacket's sleeves. "Come home." He said--no, **demanded** out loud.

 

 

  
The ends of both sleeves only reached up to his forearm, a reminder of his and and Sans' differences in stature. Though, he supposed as he opened and closed their front door behind him, _dust_ doesn't really have a stature.

 

 

  
It can't.

 

 

  
It's just _dust._

 

 

  
"Nyeheheh..." He grinned. Sans would've laughed.

 

 

  
_Would've._

 

 

  
Suddenly, Papyrus' legs gave out from under him, his back hitting and sliding down the door until his body met with the floor--hands flying up to snag and dig into the fabric of his brother's jacket desperately. "Fuck..." He croaked, the corners of his eye sockets burning. He stared down at their floor-- _his_ floor as tears spilled out and fell like rain. Sans was gone. This wasn't one of his trips to Grillby's for a drink, this wasn't one of his hour long naps-- _no._ He wasn't coming back. He would _never_ be coming back. Papyrus closed his eye sockets, hard. "Come home." He grit out.

 

 

  
No response. _Of course._

 

 

  
Fisting his hand Papyrus threw a punch down at the tile beside him. **"BASTARD!"** He screamed, hitting it again. "Fucking _bastard._ " His shoulders shook, he was crying. Oh Stars, he was actually crying.

 

 

  
Why? Why did Sans fall down? Why did the universe do this to him? What had Papyrus done wrong? He abided by the law, obeyed every rule, fulfilled his duties both at work and home, took care of his brother--! _Though..._ Papyrus figured he couldn't count that anymore.

 

 

 

Reaching up Papyrus rubbed at his left eye socket, tears obscuring his vision.  _All those years..._ He thought. All those years he spent making himself stronger, literally _breaking **bones**_ to achieve his ideal strength, to be the best, the fastest, to be the most fearsome monster and to strike fear into anyone who dared challenge him. For nothing.

 

 

 

 _It was all for nothing._ He realized. Everything-- _EVERYTHING_ was to protect Sans! To keep him safe, to help him prepare for what their hellhole of a world spit their way. "Useless." He snickered. _Useless._

 

 

  
_Useless._

 

 

  
_Useless._

 

 

  
**_USELESS._ **

 

 

  
Did Sans even know?! Papyrus wondered. Was he aware of the reason why Papyrus insisted they sharpen their claws and teeth regularly--why they workout daily? _Why_ Sans had to train with him? Sure, he never exactly _told him_ but Papyrus' intentions were obvious right? Sans at least  _knew_ right?  He was aware of how much Papyrus really _did_ care? Aware that he was lo-- _It doesn't matter._ Papyrus reminded himself. Sans--well, no longer existed. He'd been dusted.

 

 

  
_He's fallen down._

 

 

  
_He's gone._

 

 

  
_He's **GONE.**_

 

 

  
There was no point. Papyrus' brow bones furrowed. _No fucking **POINT** anymore..._

 

 

  
_Wait._ Papyrus paused, his hand stilling on the jacket. He looked down. A rip--no, a _tear_ in the fabric. A deliberate one at that--one that was _too_ precise to have come from any claw other than Papyrus' own. Nobodies' claw attacks were as perfect as his. _Nobodies._ He pulled the jacket taut to further analyze the incision. It was too clean to have been created by magic, no magical singe could be found on the edges to indicate otherwise. _A weapon._ Papyrus realized.  

 

 

  
Someone killed his brother with an actual _weapon._  Papyrus was aware of the fact that only those in the _royal guard_ were permitted to carry actual _weapons_ on their person though. Civilians had to rely purely on magic and instinct to protect themselves. But a royal guard had no quarrel with neither Papyrus _or_ Sans. None. And even if one did they wouldn't have acted out on it. It was no exaggeration that the amount of monsters lining up to join the already very small guard was little to none. Nobody exactly _wanted_ to risk dying anymore on a regular basis then they already did just by living normally. Monsters like Papyrus were scarce to come by. It made him valuable. It made him have _worth._ And everyone knew that messing with Sans was equivalent to fucking with Papyrus himself _,_ no matter how much the taller skeleton seemingly disliked his brother  _nobody_ was allowed to pick on him. It's what probably kept Sans alive for as long as he had. Undyne wouldn't risk the chance for a new recruit to sign up no matter how much she disliked Sans. She would  _not_ have sent out any guards to assassinate him. Papyrus knew she wouldn't. 

 

 

  
Leaning back, Papyrus knew he had to think. Who would attack his brother..? Who did he know of who was aware of the consequences that came with dusting Sans and just didn't give a damn. _Nobody._ Nobody was that stupid. No monster would _ever--!_

 

 

  
Papyrus sat straight up. It made sense. He figured it out. He pieced all the pieces together and figured it _out._ His eye sockets widened. _Stars, it all makes SENSE!_

 

 

  
Why was there no sign of a struggle? Because Sans _knew_ who killed him; trusted them even. What monster did Sans trust to let his guard down around? Simple, _none._ Not a single damn one. Not even Grillby. And that's how Papyrus knew his killer wasn't a monster. No, far from one in fact. _A human._ Papyrus concluded. The same human he told his brother to stay away from, the human his brother kept _insisting_ to follow around. The human who Papyrus once found toying around with a knife behind their house--something he so stupidly overlooked at the time. All small monsters played with whatever they could find around Underfell. He didn't think anything of it. _Oh how wrong he was..._

 

 

  
He understood now, Papyrus realized as he wiped his remaining tears off on his brother's sleeve, standing up on unsteady legs. He knew who killed his brother. He _knew,_ without a doubt.

 

 

  
And he was going to make them _**pay.**_


	3. Possible Permanent Hiatus

This work has been abandoned until further notice. Sorry. Just no inspiration.


End file.
